Rule 9 of Freddy Fazbear's
by Helenadorf
Summary: FNaF1-era, pre-Mike Schmidt. At first, Chica the Chicken wasn't the most threatening of the animatronics- especially when compared to Foxy or the great Freddy Fazbear himself. However, this guard learned the hard way how to turn her into the most foul of fowl…


FNaF1-era, pre-Mike Schmidt. At first, Chica the Chicken wasn't the most threatening of the animatronics- especially when compared to Foxy or the great Freddy Fazbear himself. However, this guard learned the hard way how to turn her into the most foul of fowl…

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A/N: Forgive the play on words at the end of that description; I couldn't resist.

Now, this is very much a joke fic; just something to get myself back into fic-writing. There's no shipping in this one, or even really an OC despite the use of a different guard. He's just some unnamed twit who's about to get his ass handed to him. That said, enjoy!

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The unspoken ninth rule of Freddy Fazbear's was one that thankfully hadn't been learned by many; mostly because few were foolish enough to attempt what it entailed. Given the history of the heaven-forsaken pizzeria, that was saying a lot. Although it was something simple, and an easy mistake to make- especially for the night watchmen that sat in the one office for six hours, often starving by the time it was over, only a handful had dared try it.

This was one of those fools.

The man returned to his seat, a box of leftover pizza in his hands. He shut the door behind him in case any of the animatronics had heard him walking about; and checked the light for the opposite hall. Nothing and nobody. Grinning and feeling lucky, he set the box on the messy desk and took one of the slices.

For such a gross-smelling, probably OSHA-defying and cheap pizza joint, the food itself was actually pretty good. Not normally worth risking his life, but it was pretty early in the night. Last he checked, although Bonnie and Chica had both left the show stage, they were just in the dining area. While he ate, he checked Pirate's Cove; Foxy was humming away behind his curtain. Good. This night would be smooth sailing!

However, five minutes later, he heard footsteps. They were coming from the right side, so he paid them little mind. It was probably just Chica- and the rattling in the kitchen confirmed it. Whatever—oh! He probably should've opened the door… However, when he went to hit the door switch and save his power, he heard footsteps rush out and something large smack against the window.

Startled and confused, he tapped the light switch. Chica's face and hands were right against the glass, beak wide open to display her vicious chompers. However, that wasn't what freaked him out- what freaked him out was the look on her face.

Although the animatronics weren't capable of much expression, Chica somehow looked particularly _livid_. Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated and eyebrows furrowed together at a steep angle. She seemed to be clawing at the glass, producing a horrible screeching noise and… was she _breathing_? Heavily, at that, and loud enough to be heard through the wall?

"Bud, your best bet is to open the door and sacrifice the pizza- and hope like heck that she'll forgive you for taking her food."

"GAH!" He slammed the other set of buttons on the opposite side of the room. However, he missed the door switch entirely, and instead was greeted through the doorway by Bonnie's face. Like Chica, he seemed to have an odd expression on his face. However, Bonnie looked… almost concerned. Or scared? The rabbit's tone before had suggested the latter, especially since the door was still wide open and the bunny hadn't barged into the office yet.

Now registering what had been said, the night watch frowned. "…Wait, what're you talking about?"

"The pizza," Bonnie replied. "She wants the pizza. That's _her_ pizza. Seriously- you can go ahead and slip it past the other door and I won't come in."

"You're joking, right? Aren't you _all_ trying to kill me?"

"Well… _yes_." Bonnie scratched his chin, ears folding forwards a little. "But getting her mad is the worst thing you can do in this place- bad enough that even the rest of us think she can get nasty. Trust me."

The night watch frowned skeptically. He heard other footsteps coming down the hall- at a much faster pace. He was about to think it was Chica defying her usual shtick and making a beeline for the open door, but it didn't take long for Foxy the Pirate to become visible under the flickering light.

Bonnie turned to his seaward companion. "You tell 'im how bad an idea it is to take food from Chica! He's not taking my word for it."

Foxy now got a similar look on his face to what Bonnie had- and his eyepatch flipped up to boot. He turned to the night watch and nodded. "Aye, lad- heck hath no fury like chicken scorned. This eye 'ain't been workin' right since the last time I said the wrong thing to 'er!" Foxy pointed to his right eye- which looked lazy and a little duller than the opposite one.

The night watch considered for a second, then defiantly lifted up his chin and took another bite of pizza. "She can deal! Food's for people, anyway, not animatronics. No wonder she smells so bad if she's eating all that pizza- it's not like she can digest it!"

He said that far too loudly. On the monitors for the show stage, the night watch noticed Freddy making a 'cut it out' gesture frantically, only for a loud crash and a screech to pierce the air from the right hallway. Back on the monitor, Freddy's ears folded against his head and he visibly flinched. Both Bonnie and Foxy in the open hall looked outright horrified, and quickly began slinking away back into the darkness.

"Yer _so_ dead, lad," Foxy said.

"We warned you, bud," Bonnie agreed. "Excuse us while we get the heck _out of her way_."

The night watch shut the door behind them, taking a quick glance at the clock. Crap- it was only 1AM. There was no way the power would last until six! Where was Chica, anyway?! He flipped through the cameras to see her barrelling down the hall, Bonnie and Foxy pressing themselves against the wall to clear a path for her. Moments later she was slamming her fists against the closed door, screeching angrily all the while.

The night watch shoved the rest of his slice into his mouth and called with a full mouth: "You're not getting this pizza! Got it?! It's mine!"

Although he was terrified, his hubris was getting the best of him. Out of desperation, he opened the door to the empty hall, grabbed the pizza box and started running down. Maybe he could make it to the exit and ditch his shift before she-!

Oh, nope. That was a _fast_ birdie, almost putting that damn fox to shame! He ran back down the hall, back to his office- Chica closing in behind him. However, just as he hit the button to close the door on her, she managed to catch the door. Not only that, but _lift it against the force of the security lock, forcing it open_.

The night watch fearfully shoved another slice of pizza in his mouth.

He opened the other door and made another mad dash down that hall. Both Bonnie and Foxy were long gone- even looking across the way to the show stage, Freddy seemed to have run with his tail between his legs (…metaphorically-speaking). The night watch stopped for a moment to assess where a good hiding place would be… the Cove! Of course!

He ran towards it and ran right up to the curtains, swallowing the current slice of pizza in his mouth. Behind the starry purple drapes were all three of the male animatronics, huddled together and cowering.

"What're ye doin' here, lad?!" Foxy snarled. He detangled himself from Freddy and Bonnie to approach the night watch and push him out of the way. "If ye hide yerself here, _we'll_ get in trouble with 'er for 'hidin' ye'! Find yerself a different spot, scallywag!"

With that, he returned behind the curtains and pulled them closed.

So much for that. To make matters worse, the night watch yelped as he heard Chica's footsteps and her voice call into the seemingly empty pizzeria- "Oh, Mr. Watchmaaan~!" A dainty, sing-song-y tone suddenly transformed into pure evil: " **I WANT MY PIZZA**."

He made a mad dash out of the Cove and frantically looked for another hiding spot. Did he have the chance to return to the office-!? It was worth a shot! He ran down the east hall, only to notice that the lights were out completely and there was no chance of salvation there. Wonderful.

He took a chance and tried navigating with his flashlight. He heard Chica's voice on the other side of the pizzeria; so hopefully he'd be okay doing so? He ate another slice of pizza, doing a balancing act with the box on his arm and his flashlight in his hand while he held the slice in his opposite hand. He walked through the office, looking over at the west hall's corner.

The poster was changed- from Freddy's daytime mug to that of Golden Freddy. Hey, could that be another possible out? Uh- assuming ol' Goldie also wasn't going to kill him, of course! He shone the flashlight directly on the poster and hushed his voice.

"Hey, Gold—uh, whatever you're actually called," he said through a mouthful of pizza. "Wanna do me a solid and help me escape El Loca Seniorita over there?"

She'd heard that. Another screech warned him of the incoming danger as the spectral form of Golden Freddy appeared near him, eyes wide (maybe? It was really hard to tell) and mouth shut. The night watch was frozen, listening to the loud movement coming from the other side of the pizzeria, until:

"See you on the other side, buddy!" with that, Golden Freddy ditched him as well, not even doing him the favour of giving him a painless death.

Squawk went the endangered night watch as he dashed back where he'd came from, with a rageful animatronic chicken in pursuit. This time he made his way to the kitchen, sticking another slice of pizza in his mouth. There was only one slice left now- and he would have to be caught and killed by Chica before he'd let her have it!

He ran to the other side of the central counter, over which hung numerous pots and pans. Chica made motions of being about to dash towards him whenever he made a move. Thinking fast, he took the last piece- although he hadn't finished the one in his mouth- and flung the empty box at her like a shuriken before running back out. With a snarl, he heard her grab something from the hanging inventory before following him.

He ran towards the exit- hastily trying to finish his pizza. He could do it, he could make it out alive! –Only for something made of steel hitting his back and causing him to fall forward. He reached out his arm to save the last pizza slice from the floor as he fell- almost feeling himself tumble in slow motion. In that moment, he realized that Chica had just thrown a freaking pan at him to knock him down. _Mm, what'cha saaay_ …

Chica marched over and placed her foot on the small of his back. Her talons- chicken feet probably weren't actually called those but at the moment that's what it felt like- dug into his skin as she reached over and grabbed the final slice, bringing it up to her mouth and starting to chew.

The following slaughter echoed throughout the pizzeria, reaching the ears of the terrified males and getting them to silently agree that for the sake of their own skins, Chica was to be appeased at all costs for the rest of the evening.

* * *

"A-another slice of pizza, my queen?" Bonnie asked, holding the second box open for her.

On Chica's other side, Freddy was cooling her with a makeshift fan made out of a broom and an empty pizza box. Foxy was currently in a fairly demeaning position on his knees and elbows, trembling under Chica's weight as she sat on his back as if it were a throne with one leg crossed over the other.

"Why, yes- thank you, Bonnie," she said, chipper as she took advantage of her co-band members' fears. She pointed towards her beak, urging Bonnie to feed her the next slice.

Freddy scooted behind Chica to lean towards his right-hand rabbit and mutter: "We should just start closing off the kitchen to humans so that no more of them rouse her rage again…"

Bonnie nodded; ditto from Foxy, who was still struggling. Chica cleared her throat loudly- Freddy returned to his post, fanning her and desperately glancing towards the clock, hoping for that small hand to reach six.


End file.
